


oh what a wonderful life we lead

by orphan_account



Series: frankcest oneshots [1]
Category: Frank Iero and the Patience, My Chemical Romance, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Asshole Frank Iero, Bottom Frank Iero, M/M, Punk Frank Iero, Science Fiction, Top Frank Iero, frankcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: at home with no pay, nearly crashed his car AND was out of cigarettes. how could life get any worse for frank? one word: clones.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Frank Iero
Series: frankcest oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665769
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	oh what a wonderful life we lead

_Welcome to hell..._

The year is 2076 and Frank Iero is done with everything to do with this horrible mortal coil we call life. First, there was an accident at the lab he currently was employed at so he was at home without pay. Then as he was driving back home, there was an idiot that ran in front of his car, causing him to almost run off the road in an attempt to save the dumbass.

"Motherfucker!" He yelled, jerking the wheel as hard as possible to avoid the street sign, nearly crashing in an attempt to avoid dying. Managing to right his car, he whipped his head around to catch sight of the man who walked in front of him without stopping or looking. But he seemed to have vanished.

"Fucking stupid teenagers," He swore, wiping a hand across his forehead in frustration. From the split second that he could see the man, he seemed short and childlike, so obviously a teenager. He pulled into his apartment car park, jerking his key out of the ignition with an undeniable chaotic and manic energy, his elbow hitting the seat beside him with the force he yanked his key.

The trip up to his apartment was uneventful but a hassle nonetheless. A man fuelled by exhaustion and early-morning-mishap frustration could _not_ have a peaceful return to his home. No, Frank managed to trip going up the stairs about three times and counting as he landed flat on his face at the top step. 

"Fuck you god, seriously, fuck you," He sighed, pushing up off the ground and stumbling to his apartment door. Fumbling with the door, it seemed that Frank's troubles had stopped as he stepped into his apartment, making a beeline for his couch, not bothering with his shoes. 

Flopping on to the couch with an immeasurable amount of both displeasure and defeat, Frank spent a few minutes glaring at the ceiling in true gay fashion. Kidding. Not really.

Then came the sound.

The sound that only rang a certain emotion in Frank's head that he could never quite describe later. A certain feeling that brought his stomach curling in and the air in his lungs to push out with a tremendous amount of force.

What was that sound, you may ask?

Why, it was the fucking doorbell.

After letting out quite a few choice expletives, Frank hauled himself up yet again, rather resembling a blundering troll more than a tired gay adult.

The doorbell rang a third time.

"I'm coming, hold on!" He called, attempting to keep his anger in check, it could be someone important, after all.

Making sure not to open the door too furiously, Frank started to open his mouth to greet the person but stopped dead.

There stood a man who looked to be around twenty but was abnormally short. He wore a striped hoodie with a collar and ripped jeans that looked a size too large, his beanie perched on his head, pulled over his ears.

Funny, he looked... like a self-taken polaroid from years ago...

"Who the hell...?" Frank trailed off, dumbfounded by the absurd vision in front of him.

"I'm looking for Frank Iero?" The smaller man said with a smile. 

"Yes, this is him," Frank replied, leaning on the doorframe. "And you are?" This situation was so insane that all Frank could respond with were the normal greetings, like a robot preprogrammed to handle the most inane things.

"Um, I don't know." The young, carbon copy of Frank spoke with a slight frown, visibly struggling to remember his own identity.

"I'm guessing something happened back at the lab," Frank realized, his one singular brain cell working overtime. It was the only explanation for there to be a motherfucking clone of himself on the doorstep. "Come in, I guess."

"Thank you." The clone said gratefully, stepping inside and casting his gaze around the room hectically. 

Frank's workplace has been doing illegal clone harvesting for years, the only reason he'd been employed was because of his qualifications as a veterinarian, which was useful in the healthcare of these clones. He hadn't quit solely because he had no other place to go and this was the only stable paycheck in the area.

What baffled him was how sentient this clone was, how human-like it seemed. He really seemed like the twenty-year-old version of himself. He could already guess why the clone had followed him, as their DNA was linked and they were now inseparable beings.

If one were to die, the other being would follow, as their souls co-existed within each of their bodies.

"What am I supposed to do here?" The clone groaned, flopping back dramatically on to Frank's couch.

It was twenty-year-old him, oh god.

"Be my maid, now move," Frank snapped, shoving the clone's feet off the cushions.

"Isn't that slavery?" He retorted with a wide smirk.

"Jesus Christ," Frank huffed in annoyance. How did anyone deal with him as a teenager and during this phase? Frank made a mental note to apologize to his mother because of this shit.

"Do you know who I am?" The clone asked, veering into a subject that Frank would've rathered avoid.

"You're a clone of me," He answered shortly, suddenly feeling slightly uncomfortable. What was he supposed to do with a clone? He'd seen clone couples around and while they were held at the highest esteem, damn it was weird for people to date themselves, yeah?

"So... I'm Frank Iero too?" The clone pressed further. Frank nodded and the clone smiled wider.

"What?"

"Well, if we age, then I'm looking forward to being that hot in the future," The clone replied with a chuckle, causing the real Frank to groan loud and roll his eyes.

"You realize that you're basically flirting with yourself, right?" 

"Yep," The clone said, popping the 'p'. "And clone pairs date and fuck and stuff right, don't we?" This time, Frank flushed a bright cherry red, furiously scratching at his neck.

"Sometimes I think," Frank chuckled nervously. He did not like the way this clone was thinking, but really he could only blame himself for that. After all, it was literally him.

"Will we?" 

Frank coughed, choking on his own spit. 

"Shut up, oh my god," Frank said, glaring at the laughing clone. "I'm calling you Frankie, only because I know that I hate the name and you will too."

"Okay fuck you then," The newly named Frankie cursed, leaning over to push Frank's shoulder hard.

Frank should not have been thinking about shoving that tiny clone against the wall.

No.

That would be weird. Literally fucking himself. _He's kinda hot though_ , Frank thought guiltily as Frankie continued to talk without noticing the real human's turmoil.

But it's fucking weird. Frank went back and forth between his conflicting mind until the clone tapped his chest to get his attention.

"You looked kinda spaced out there, Frank," Frankie commented. 

"Just uh, thinking about stuff," Frank replied, internally smacking himself for that dumbass response. As weird as it was to stare into his own eyes, it was like looking back at a memory.

A hot one at that.

Did he really look that much like a twink?

Sighing, Frank ran a hand through his hair idly, disturbing his roots while chewing on his lip, while staring intently at the clone, deciding on what to do.

To fuck, or not to fuck?

The question that should never have been asked.


End file.
